The Strange Story of Harper's Ferry, with Legends of the Surrounding Country

The writer has adverted to the want of discipline in both the armies that in this war exhibited so much gallantry and, as an evidence of this he will relate an incident that occurred on Maryland Heights while the federal army was yet defending Harper's Ferry on that memorable Fourth of July. It will be remembered that the State of Ohio a short time before had furnished to the government a force called "the Hundred-Day Men." A portion of these were doing duty on the Maryland Heights on this occasion. They were brave enough but, as the following will show, they had little or no conception of the military appliances which they were expected to use with some degree of intelligence. A company of them were preparing dinner and, not having anything else convenient on which to build their fire, they procured from an ammunition wagon several large shells on which they piled their wood which was soon ablaze. 'Round the fire they all squatted, each intent on watching his kettle or saucepan. Soon a terrific explosion shook the surrounding hills, sending all the culinary utensils flying over the tree tops and, unfortunately, killing or wounding nearly every man of the group. This is but one of many instances seen during the war of incredible carelessness produced by the excitement of the times and a lack of military training in the soldiers. While "the hundred-day men" were stationed near Harper's Ferry many yarns were spun at their expense, such as the following: One of them, it is said, presented himself on a certain occasion to the commander of the post, a grim old warrior, who had seen a hundred battles, and who had the reputation of being a martinet. On being asked what he wanted, the soldier said that he had a complaint to make of the commissary who had not yet furnished butter or milk for the company mess. The wrath of the old campaigner is said to have been appalling when he heard this, and it is narrated that about this time a figure was seen to retreat with precipitation from the general's tent, with a boot in close proximity to its seat of honor.

Another party of the same corps was stationed at Kearneysville, ten miles west of Harper's Ferry, for the protection of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad at that point. These hearing of a much superior force of the enemy approaching to destroy the road and kill or capture them, wisely resolved to retreat to Harper's Ferry without waiting orders from their superiors. A freight car happened to be at the time on the sidetrack near, and the thought struck them that they could load all their "traps" into this and push it to their destination. Kearneysville is situated on the very top of a ridge, halfway between Harper's Ferry and Martinsburg, and there is a very steep grade of ten miles in length either way from these points – the summit being, as noted, at Kearneysville. This the Ohio men did not know and it is possible that they had never heard of the existence of grades on surfaces apparently so level as railroads. Having procured a switch key, they transferred the car to the main track, and having loaded on it all their paraphernalia, they proceeded to push the car towards Harper's Ferry. At first it was moved with some difficulty, but soon they discovered that it gradually attained speed and that, after a little time, it rolled along without the necessity for any exertion in pushing. Supposing, perhaps, that some kind fairy had greased the track for them, they felt overjoyed and, giving the car a few vigorous pushes, they all jumped aboard and "let her slide." Soon, however, the rate of travel increased, so as to give them some uneasiness and, after their having accomplished a mile or two, the speed was terrific and increasing every moment. Knowing little about railroading they did not understand the use of the car-brake, which would have done something towards reducing their dangerous rate of locomotion. On the car shot like a meteor, and the long hair of the western men streamed behind like the tail of a comet, as would also their coat tails, if their uniforms had any such appendages. The astonished track hands along the road fled in dismay from the apparition and well might the knowing ones among them feel alarm as the westward bound mail train was then due on the same track on which the car was rushing in an opposite direction at far more than legitimate railroad speed. Onward and faster the Ohio men flew 'round the innumerable curves of the road in that neighborhood until to the amazement of Mr. Donohoo, the railroad agent at Harper's Ferry, the car came in sight of his station. Fortunately, the mail train had been detained for some reason by order of Mr. Donohoo, and thus the Ohio men and the passengers on board the train were saved from the consequences of a collision which, under the circumstances, would have been of the most disastrous kind. When the car came to the level a short distance above Harper's Ferry, its rate of travel gradually declined and it stopped of itself before reaching the passenger train, the engineer of which had presence of mind to back his train far enough to the east to keep out of the way until the momentum of the engineless car had expended itself beyond the incline. The soldiers half dead with fright, jumped off the car with all possible speed, but they were put in irons immediately by order of the commander at Harper's Ferry for disobedience of orders with the aggravation of the danger to which they had exposed the passenger train. The Ohio men were very gallant soldiers, however, and that more than compensated for their inexperience.

After the failure of the confederates in their attempt on Washington City, and their retreat into Virginia again and for the last time did the federal troops get possession of Harper's Ferry. After the battle of Monocacy General Sheridan was appointed to command in the Valley of Virginia, and his brilliant and successive victories over Early around Winchester saved the whole of the lower valley, henceforth from its accustomed alternation of masters.

There was then residing near Harper's Ferry a German known as "Dutch George," his real name being George Hartman. He was a bachelor and he worked among the farmers of the neighborhood with whom he was deservedly popular for his harmless simplicity of character and his efficiency as a farm-help. During the severe conscription George entered the confederate army as a substitute for one of his employers and his achievements in the war are thus summed up. After the last retreat of Early, George and many of the young men of the neighborhood who were serving in the confederate army, and who had taken advantage of the forward movement of their troops to visit their homes, remained on furlough, trusting for concealment to their knowledge of the locality and the sympathy of all their neighbors with their cause. One day they got information that a force of their enemies was approaching and, fearing that their houses would be searched for them, they all assembled in a deserted blacksmith's shop where the enemy would suspect their being concealed. As an additional precaution, they threw out pickets to watch the motions of the enemy, and George was detailed for this duty. He took post in a fence corner, but he kept a poor lookout and was surprised and taken prisoner by a squad of the enemy that had stolen a march on him. "By damn," said George to his captors, "you did dat wery vel, but you ain't schmart enough to find de boys in de blackschmidt shop." Of course, "a nod was as good as a wink" to the shrewd "Yankees," and they surrounded the shop and made prisoners of the whole party, greatly to the astonishment of George, who never could be made to understand by what intuition the "Yankees" discovered "de boys in de blackschmidt's shop." Poor George is now dead, and it is only fair to his memory to say that he was not suspected of cowardice or treachery. He stood well with his comrades in regard to courage and loyalty, and it is possible that the tale was invented or greatly exaggerated by the mischievous youngsters of the neighborhood to tease the poor fellow.

During the winter of 1864-65 several military executions took place at Harper's Ferry and, indeed, there is no phase of war that was not experienced at some time by its people. A man known as "Billy, the Frenchman" was executed by hanging on the 2nd day of December, the fifth anniversary of John Brown's death. His proper name was William Loge. He was a native of France and was but a short time in this country. He enlisted in a New York regiment and, while he was stationed at Berlin – now Brunswick – on the Maryland side of the Potomac, he deserted and, crossing over to Virginia, he attached himself to Mobley's gang and became a terror to the people of Loudoun – rebel as well as loyal. He was a young man of an attractive appearance and great physical strength, as well as of iron nerve. After marauding successfully for many months he was made prisoner by federal scouts, near Johnson's stillhouse – the scene of the pugilistic encounter between Yankee Sullivan and Ben Caunt – and taken to Harper's Ferry, where he was executed as soon as the formalities of a court martial could be complied with. He displayed the utmost courage on the scaffold and many pitied him on this account, as well as for the great brutality with which the execution was conducted. The provost was Major Pratt of the gallant 34th Massachusetts regiment, a very kindhearted man, but others who acted under him displayed the greatest cruelty and barbarity. On the whole it was the most sickening affair witnessed at the place during the war.

On another occasion two deserters were taken out for execution by shooting. The Reverend Father Fitzgibbon, a Catholic priest, chaplain to one of the regiments then at the place, took an interest in them and, although they did not belong to his communion, he volunteered his spiritual aid for the occasion. Father Fitzgibbon had officiated in the ministry years before at Springfield, Illinois, and had become well acquainted with Mr. Lincoln, then a practising lawyer at that place. It occurred to the good priest, therefore, to use his influence with the President for the pardon of the condemned men, or a commutation of their sentence. He telegraphed his request to Mr. Lincoln. No reply came until the hour appointed for the execution had actually passed. Major Pratt, with his usual kindheartedness, delayed the catastrophe as long as he could do so consistently in view of his duty. At length the condemned men were placed on their knees and a file of soldiers held their guns ready to fire at the command of the provost, when a horseman was seen riding furiously from the direction of the telegraph office and it was hoped that he might be the bearer of some message of mercy. True enough, the benevolent Lincoln had pardoned them, and there was not one in the crowd of spectators who did not feel relieved on hearing the good news, and many a rough cheek was wet with tears. It will be readily believed that the prisoners participated largely in the joy of the occasion. There is an old fatalistic saying that "every wight has got his weird," or that every man's career on earth and the manner of his death are predestined. This may or may not be true, but many things occur to give at least plausibility to the belief. One of these men thus rescued from the very jaws of death, lost his life some twenty years afterward by being shot by a woman whom he had grossly insulted with improper proposals, and to whom he was about to offer personal violence. The "weird," if there is such a thing, missed him at Harper's Ferry, but overtook him some thirty miles farther up the Potomac. The author will give another instance of apparent fatality. Like the sentimental Sterne, he loves philosophical digressions which, perhaps, the reader may pardon. Besides, the occurrence took place near enough to Harper's Ferry to give it some little claim on the chronicles of that neighborhood. In the confederate army during the civil war was the scion of a very respectable house in the lower valley of Virginia. Like other young men, no doubt, he felt that in him was the making of a hero but, in his first battle, he discovered that he had missed his vocation. In his second and third battles his fears were confirmed and, still worse, his comrades suspected the truth. He held on to the colors, however, but, after a few more experiences, he ever sought some excuse for absence from his post in time of battle, until his example was considered detrimental to the service, and by a tacit connivance he was allowed to quit the army and return home. It often happened that scouting parties of the opposite sides would encounter one another near his home and so great was his fear of death that on these occasions he would hide himself in some bullet-proof retreat. Once, a skirmish took place nearly a mile from his home and he thought he could view it safely at that distance. He however, took the precaution of hiding in some high grass while looking at the encounter. All in vain was his care, for a stray bullet found him and he received a mortal wound.

An understanding may be got of the war experience of Harper's Ferry from the fact that the railroad bridge at the place was destroyed and rebuilt nine times from June, 1861, to the surrender of General Lee at Appomattox in April, 1865. Mr. Thomas N. Heskett, now dead, assistant master of road for the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company, every time superintended its construction, assisted by Milton and Oliver Kemp, his foremen, and it very creditable to these gentlemen that, notwithstanding the many disadvantages under which they labored, and the hurry with which they were obliged to perform the work of reconstruction, no accident occurred to any of the thousands of railroad and wagon trains that passed over it during these years, which could be traced to any defect in the bridge itself, or the track laid on it.

At every evacuation of the place the wildest excitement pervaded the town, and scenes of terror were frequently presented, mingled with ludicrous occurrences. Few, however, could at the time command equanimity enough to appreciate the laughter-moving side of those pictures and see where the joke came in. A few days prior to a retreat a vague rumor of approaching danger could be heard and immediate preparations would be put on foot for a "skedaddle." There were in the town many sympathizers with the rebellion, especially among the fair sex. These were in constant communication with the insurgents, who kept them informed of what was going on within the confederate lines, in return for the news with which they were supplied of the doings of the union troops. While, at heart, thoroughly loyal to the rebel cause, the women of southern proclivities could never keep their information concerning the movements of the confederates entirely secret. The love of talk and the pride in knowing more than their neighbors always betrayed them into giving some hints of what was impending and, in consequence, the townspeople were but seldom taken by surprise. As the enemy approached, the excitement would increase and, finally, a motley crowd of fugitives of every shade of color could be seen tramping along the turnpike to Frederick City, ankle deep in mud or enveloped in a cloud of dust and stewing with heat, according to the season. Ideal socialism existed among them for the time being and a practical illustration of the equality of mankind was frequently exhibited when a darkey of the blackest shade of color, with a wallet well supplied with hard tack and bologna sausages, or a bottle of whiskey, commanded more consideration than the purest Caucasian, though he could trace his lineage to the Crusades or the Norman conquest, if deficient in his commissariat. Uncle Jake Leilic's hotel in Frederick City was the headquarters of the fugitive Harper's Ferry people on these occasions, and assembled there, they contrived to receive intelligence about the movements of the rebels, until the danger had passed away, and the confederates had retreated up the valley. Mr. Leilic deserved well of many refugees whose pecuniary resources became exhausted while they were away from home, and he is remembered by many with gratitude. He was a good, honest, kindhearted, though blunt German – a native of Hesse Darmstadt. He has been dead many years and few there are to fill his place in the estimation of his surviving friends. The retreats were called "skedaddles," a term invented at the time by some wag. The originator in all probability was not aware that a similar word is used by Homer to express the same idea and, if at any time, the inventor should chance to read these pages, or should learn by any other means of the coincidence, the information, no doubt, will afford him the liveliest satisfaction. It must be confessed, however, that the termination "daddle" is not homeric, as it is lacking in dignity and such as would not be tolerated for a moment in the grand old language in which the great bard wrote his sonorous hexameters. A correction in the next edition is, therefore, respectfully suggested.

After the surrender of General Lee a garrison was left at Harper's Ferry, and for more than a year after the restoration of peace were the ear-piercing notes of the fife and the boom of the drum heard on the streets of that place. It may be said with truth that no spot in the United States experienced more of the horrors of the war than that village. The first act of the great tragedy – the Brown raid – was enacted there and, at no time until the curtain fell, was Harper's Ferry entirely unconnected with the performance. Even the cessation of military operations was far from restoring the tranquility that used to reign in this once prosperous and happy little community. In the spring and summer of 1865 many families that had cast their lots with the confederacy returned to the place to find their homes occupied by tenants to whom the national government had rented them as being in a condition of semi-confiscation. Some found their houses occupied by mere squatters who had seized them as so much Treasure Trove, and who impudently asserted their superior right to the property on the score of loyalty, although the government had given no sanction to their occupancy, and was simply passive with regard to the ownership. General Egan, a gallant soldier of the State of New York, was for a short time, in the summer of that year, in command of the post and, filled with pity for the forlorn condition of the hapless owners and indignation at the effrontery of the intruders, he, regardless of technicalities, cleared many of the houses of the riff-raff that had unjustly settled in them and restored them to the former and real proprietors. Unfortunately, this generous, brave and impulsive soldier was moved to some other command, before his noble work of restoration was completed. We have never been able to fully ascertain the identity of this gallant soldier with the General Egan so prominent in the late war with Spain, but assuredly our people at Harper's Ferry owe him a heavy debt of gratitude.

The new State of West Virginia had been created during the war, and Harper's Ferry is the eastern extremity of that state. The then dominant political faction, as usual, persecuted those, who in their day, were so intolerant, and harsh election and school laws were enacted for the purpose of rendering the defeated party incapable of ever again asserting itself. During this state of affairs the writer was elected superintendent of free schools, and never will he forget the perplexities imposed on him by the office. It was his bounden duty to establish schools all over the county, but it was equally incumbent on him by law to see that no teacher was employed for any of the public schools who refused to take an iron-clad oath setting forth his or her unfaltering love for the union and hatred for its enemies, and also, that the applicant for the place of teacher had never given aid in any way to the late rebels. When it is considered that ninety-nine in every hundred of the inhabitants of the county had been in active sympathy with the rebellion, it will be evident that the school superintendent's only way to escape a dilemma was to send to the loyal states for teachers. Again, the salaries paid were too small to tempt people from the north to reside in a hostile land to train pupils rendered refractory by the bad examples of the war and imbued by their parents with a hatred for "Yankees" as all northern people were styled. Finally, the writer, finding it impossible to comply with the letter of an absurd and contradictory law, resolved on following the spirit and underlying principle of all public school legislation, and he took on himself to dispense with all test oaths and employ teachers without reference to their politics. His action in the matter brought him very near to impeachment, but he brazened it out until the expiration of his term. Again, a registration law then enacted, depriving sympathizers with the south of the right to vote at elections, put into the power of county boards to allow or refuse this right at their own sweet wills. Of course, the boards were composed of "loyal men" and it is easy to imagine how petty spite or interest in the election of some candidate for office too often swayed the judges. Those whose property had been injured by the rebels sought recompense by suing before the courts the officers whose men had inflicted the damage, and all these causes, with many others, combined to keep the town and neighborhood in a ferment for several years, so that many thought that they had gained but little by the cessation of actual warfare. Time, however, has happily cured the wounds, though the scars will ever remain, and it is confidently hoped that the historic village – the theme of this little book will flourish again some day – the better, perhaps, for the fiery ordeal through which it has passed – so mote it be!

This concludes an imperfect account of Harper's Ferry in the war, and the writer is impelled to comment on a fact which, although it may have been accidental, appears to have a strange significance for a reflecting mind. Of all the government buildings in the armory inclosure before the war, the only one that escaped destruction in that fearful struggle was John Brown's famous engine-house or fort. Of the occurrence that gave fame to that little building there can be but one opinion from a legal standpoint – that it was a violation of law for which the aggressors paid a just penalty, if we consider obedience to human enactments without reference to the moral code as obligatory on man. On the other hand, it must be admitted that slavery was not only an evil that affected perniciously every member of any community in which it existed, but an anomaly in the model republic of modern times and this civilized century. Who knows then by what providential interference an enthusiastic fanatic may have been selected as an instrument in removing that anomalous stain of slavery from the state that boasts of having given birth to Washington and of containing his ashes, and from this whole nation that now, at least, can truly call itself the Land of the Free! The preservation of this little building was certainly remarkable and, although the present owners of the old armory property have sold – unfortunately, it is thought by many – this interesting little relic of stirring times, and every brick of it has been conveyed away by Chicago speculators, the actions of man do not lessen the significance of the protection accorded to it by Providence from the day when the first active protest against the great wrong of slavery was uttered in fire from its door, until that sin was finally banished from the land. The writer has no intention to dictate to property owners what they ought to do with what belongs to them justly, but he cannot help heaving a sigh for this great sacrifice of sentiment, as well as for the material loss of a great attraction that brought hundreds of people every year to the place to see a curiosity, and incidentally and necessarily, to leave some money behind when they departed. But the site is there yet and it takes but a slight stretch of imagination to prophesy that it will be the Mecca to which many a pilgrim of this land and of other lands will journey in future times as to a shrine consecrated to liberty. Some seventy-five miles farther down the Potomac is another shrine – the grave of Washington – and it is not his countrymen alone who bare their heads in honor of the great man who rests in the consecrated ground. From all civilized lands they come to venerate, and even his ancient foes have been known to lower the haughty flag of their country in his honor. They who come to Mount Vernon do not ask how much right the British or the Americans had on their respective sides in the war of the Revolution. They come to honor the heroic man who did so much for humanity in obedience to his conscience and the same motive will bring many to the site of the famous engine house – people who will not take the trouble to examine the fine-spun sophistries and subtleties we used to hear from politicians before the war, but will honor and revere bona-fide honesty and the heroism that upholds the right and combats wrong, even to the death, despite of legal quibbles. Many will consider it sacrilege to compare George Washington with John Brown, but all must admit that what the former began the latter completed or, at least, put in the way of completion by Abraham Lincoln. All three deserve imperishable monuments for all of them did the best according to their light for the cause of humanity, and "Angels could no more." In 1859 it was a high crime against the laws of Virginia and, we believe, of other states, to teach a man of color the alphabet. In 1866, within a quarter of a mile of John Brown's fort, was established "Storer College" for the education of the ex-slaves and their descendants. Mistaken, fanatical, or criminal as John Brown may have been, if we judge him by the results of his actions at Harper's Ferry, we will not be considered unreasonable, we hope, when we point to this flourishing seat of learning to justify a great deal of favorable consideration for him by posterity. He is getting it already, even in the life-time of many who clamored for his blood, and the heroic old confederate soldiers are not behind in doing honor to his undoubted courage and honesty. Brave men will ever honor the brave.

"Exegi monumentum aere perennius" may well be inscribed on the graves or monuments of those three extraordinary men. No one now grudges it to Washington or Lincoln, and the day will be when all will concede the right to John Brown as well. "Tempora mutantur, nos et, mutamur in illis."